Wild is the Wind
by springburn
Summary: A Malc/Sam mini fic continuing from Tuckers Eleven. This has turned into total fluff...and too many babies! For which I apologise!


The song Wild is the Wind by David Bowie, from the Station to Station album was the inspiration for this story. I think Peter would approve!  
Despite my best intentions, I seem to have been pulled back to the Tuckers again...and more babies! Where all this mass procreation has come from...goodness knows! Two years have passed since Tuckers Eleven. I want to try to explain the devotion and loyalty that Malcolm has...it was always there in TTOI; total devotion to the Party and loyalty to the point of self destruction. No surprise that this loyalty and devotion should be transferred to his wife and family. I think that Peter gave him a great unplumbed depth of emotion and feeling and vulnerability that I'm trying to put into words. He is a man of strong passions, which he poured into his work and now pours into his marriage. Sam, of course, is an unknown quantity as far as TTOI is concerned, but she's seen him in all his moods, his worst and his best, and that, I think, is the secret to why they would click.

I apologise profusely if this story is too wordy and verbose. It kinda ran away on its own legs, particularly in trying to describe the reasons for the strength of Malcolm and Sam's relationship. It is a bond I feel qualified to write about, as it pretty much describes my own. There are a great number of sexual stories out there, which are brilliant, but the old fashioned, romantic love story has suffered as a consequence. People don't write those any more...it's more about titillation, and that can become desensitising after a while. At the risk of being twee, I wanted to attempt to write a true love story rather than purely sexual love.

WILD IS THE WIND.

 **"Wild Is The Wind"**

Love me, love me, love me, say you do

Let me fly away with you

For my love is like the wind, and wild is the wind

Wild is the wind

Give me more than one caress, satisfy this hungriness

Let the wind blow through your heart

For wild is the wind, wild is the wind

 _[CHORUS]_

You touch me,

I hear the sound of mandolins

You kiss me

With your kiss my life begins

You're spring to me, all things to me

Don't you know, you're life itself!

Like the leaf clings to the tree,

Oh, my darling, cling to me

For we're like creatures of the wind, and wild is the wind

Wild is the wind

 _[CHORUS]_

Like the leaf clings to the tree,

Oh, my darling, cling to me

For we're like creatures in the wind, and wild is the wind

Wild is the wind

The hectic whirl that was the Tucker household, was hard for anyone who had known Malcolm in his previous life, to comprehend. Now the father of two boisterous little boys, his days were filled with writing, and some consultancy work, which he enjoyed enormously and being with his wife and family.  
Having come late to fatherhood, and never expecting to be a parent at all, he had embraced the role with the same gusto, that he had once given to his job at Number 10.  
His children were his pride and joy, and his love for Sam grew stronger as time passed.  
The articles and pieces he wrote bought him a good income, and fees and royalties from his books made him financially secure.  
Sam, had not returned to work following the birth of their second son, Robbie, who was now two. Having her at home and being able to spend time with the three of them, was, for Malcolm, the biggest bonus he could wish for. There had been so many times in his past, when he felt so desperately lonely, friendless and solitary, that relinquishing his life now was unthinkable.  
His devotion to his wife was total. To him, she was the most beautiful, the most wonderful, woman, wife, mother and friend he could ever want. She was his soulmate and he loved her deeply, both mentally and physically.

Mr. & Mrs. Simpson  
Request the Pleasure of  
Malcolm and Samantha Tucker  
At the Marriage of their daughter  
Eleanor  
To Mr. James McDonald  
30th June at 2pm...  
Etc etc.

The invitation was not a surprise, because Jamie had asked Malcolm to be his Best Man, the previous month. He and Ellie were tying the knot, in Ellie's home town in Scotland.  
Paul and Tina Cassidy had, bravely, volunteered to have the two little Tucker's, Jamie and Robbie, for the whole weekend, partly to give his sister and brother-in-law some time alone, and partly because they were very fond of their young nephews.  
Little Jamie had started nursery, and his younger brother, would soon join him. Both children were exceptionally bright, and articulate, which, frankly, wasn't surprising!  
It was the first time that either parent had been separated from their sons for any length of time, and there were a difficult few moments, as they said goodbye, and pulled away in the car.  
"Fuck it all, Sam! That was tough." Malcolm puffed out his cheeks.  
"Did you see Robbie's bottom lip going? I feel like we've dumped them at the Orphanage!"  
Sam nodded in a matter of fact way...  
"They'll be fine," she said," I'm actually not too worried, and you know what? I'm really looking forward to a couple of days, just you and me!"  
"I'd better make it worth it then!" Malcolm winked. Sam rested her head against him as he drove.

For a wedding venue, Jamie and Ellie had chosen well. It was a beautiful place, and incorporated spa facilities, a pool and lovely grounds.  
The marriage ceremony and reception were so nicely arranged. Malcolm made the most witty, and, thankfully, clean, speech...with no f words! Sam's eyes glistened, as she applauded, along with the rest of the assembled company, including Jamie, who was visibly choked. How proud was she of her husband at that moment? He'd come through so much, and here he was, standing, confident, speaking so eloquently, with such affection for his friend, not a trace of the bitterness and anger he had once been a slave to; her man, free forever from the political sausage machine, which had once threatened to destroy him.

The prospect of a whole day to themselves on the Sunday was bliss. They planned to have a couple of spa treatments, maybe a swim, read the newspaper and just chill, with no demanding kiddies to disturb them!  
A polite knock on the bedroom suite at 8.30am woke Sam from a dreamless slumber. Malcolm, as usual, was up early, sitting in his robe by the window. He opened to admit the steward, wheeling a trolley.  
Sam yawned and stretched...  
"What's this?"  
"Breakfast, if I'm not much mistaken!" Her husband replied.  
Moving to the edge of the bed, she lifted the covers from the plates...  
"Wow!" She exclaimed, "did you arrange this Malcolm?"  
He gave her a little shy smile and a wink.  
There was champagne and juice. Fruit and cereal and bacon, eggs and toast.  
In a bud vase, in the centre of the tray was a single red rose...Malcolm handed it to her.  
"For you," he whispered, "thank you for being my wife."  
"You really are a dear, do you know that?" She hugged him as tight as she could, kissing his face, smoothing his silver hair, stroking across his shoulders and neck.  
"Let's set to, and eat...before it gets cold." He said, his voice strangely husky.

Feeling deliciously replete and more than a little tipsy, after this magnificent repast, they curled up in bed together, a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the outside door handle.  
Sam lay back in his arms, looking up into his face, touching the small laughter lines at the corners of his eyes, the bridge of that Roman nose and those sensuous lips. He bent his head and kissed her. She always loved the way he kissed. His eyes fluttering closed, mouth soft, tongue seeking hers. Deep and slow, passionate and sensual.  
"Malc?" She murmured, as they parted for air...he looked down at her, brows furrowed questioningly...  
"I've been thinking..."  
He placed little butterfly kisses on her brow, her cheeks, her temples...  
"Mmmmm?"  
"Well, Robbie is two now, and I know I said I didn't want anymore...but..."  
Malcolm stopped abruptly, eyes wide, a quiet excitement written on his face, and the ghost of a little smile.  
"What do you think?...I mean if you don't want..."  
"Can we start right now?" He whispered, " Hell, yeah darlin'...God, I want you, I love you...you having my child? Our child...Jesus...I'd fucking love it, you know I would!"

Making love, was, for Malcolm, (at least with Sam ) not purely a physical process. Not like some of the flings he'd had in his past. It was an affirmation of his love, certainly, but there was more to it than that. The intimate contact; holding, caressing, touching, was a reinforcement of his deep attachment to her, not just bodily, but soul to soul, heart to heart. At those moments he felt truly at one with her; entering her, and hearing her gasp and moan for him, being inside her, hearing his name on her lips, all fulfilled a desperate need inside him. Nearing that moment of release, on the crest of an immense wave of emotion, he felt an outpouring of such passion, that it could not be contained. As she shattered beneath him, his own sensation of surrender, of everything melting away, an explosion of almost violent intensity, would leave him falling into a delicious oblivion, spent and emptied, but elated and euphoric. He craved that closeness constantly. Seeking that warmth, that safety, reassurance and comfort that only her arms afforded, the realisation that he was utterly loved, cherished, wanted as never before. The key ingredient was trust; there were no secrets, nothing held back, he laid himself bare to her, in every sense; total honesty, she expected nothing less, she gave nothing less herself. This he shared with Sam. She completed him.

To Sam her husband represented strength, she had seen him at his most vulnerable, his most weak, but still the innate strength was always there. She, herself had always seen what lay behind his armoured exterior, right from the beginning. It was impossible for him to hide it from her, it was the reason she had never been in awe of him, never afraid. She respected him, but she was not intimidated, she always knew his worth and what he was capable of.  
What he had once sacrificed for his work, he now willingly gave to her and to their children. Malcolm was a deeply physical being, she knew that too. It was one of the things that attracted her most. It wasn't prowess exactly, it was more that he gave everything...or nothing.  
Where Malcolm had finally capitulated under the immense trauma that beset him, with the Enquiry and all its machinations, she did what she always did; met the problem head on, face to face, refusing to be cowed. She was patient, even tempered and stoic. Nothing could bend her once her mind was made up. Malcolm recognised this and loved her for it. Where he had surrendered, she was defiant.  
No one understood him like Sam. She realised early on in their relationship, the reason he was so tactile and demonstrative, knowing his singular existence had starved him of the sensation of touch, that he so enjoyed, she recognised it because she needed that contact every bit as much as he did.  
For all the confrontations she witnessed, whilst working as his PA, he never once came close to that bullish, raging anger with her. There was not a time she could remember when he so much as raised his voice to her. In fact they seldom argued, and Sam knew how much Malcolm hated it, if ever she was annoyed with him. He would do almost anything to make amends, practically begging forgiveness, as if he could take it from anyone else but not her.  
At those times he would be especially attentive and tender, sweet and submissive, although Sam didn't particularly require him to be. This played out in their love-making too, he ...her to take control, laying on his back as she straddled his body, one hand with fingers interlaced with hers, his other arm stretched behind his head, sometimes his hand in his own hair or covering his forehead and eyes, shy and almost demure.  
She loved to look down on him like this, all wild and undone, whimpering for her to ride him harder, whispering endearments and protestations of his desire. She would stroke her fingers down his lean ribs, tracing the fine line of hair from his naval downwards, leaning forward to capture his mouth, sharing the intensity of their physical union, whilst enhancing their mutual bond.

Jamie and Ellie, Sam and Malcolm were enjoying an evening out at The Swan at The Globe restaurant in Southwark, they procured a window table overlooking the River; St. Paul's opposite, lit with an orange glow. As a foursome, they gelled so well, chatted so easily and were so relaxed, that, if Sent from my iPad  
"So, we have some news..." Jamie ventured...  
Malcolm leaned back in his seat, brows raised, Sam glanced at Ellie expectantly.  
"Oh my God...really?" She burst out, and hugged her friend rapturously.  
Ellie nodded, blushing slightly. Malcolm looked confused...  
"Ellie's pregnant!" Sam looked at her husband with a pitying expression.  
Just like a cartoon hammer blow to the head, Malcolm twigged...  
"Ohhhhh!" He said..."der!"  
"Um...actually...talking of babies..." Sam began,  
Malcolm turned to his wife with a look that beggared belief.  
"I wasn't going to say anything just yet," she confessed," but I'm pretty certain..."  
If Jamie had possessed a million pounds, he could not have bought the face that his best friend showed at that moment. He just didn't know how Malcolm did it!  
When Ellie told him, she thought she was expecting, he'd been over the moon, but the sheer joy, the unadulterated adoration on Malcolm's face, was something to behold. Leaving his seat, he swept Sam up into his arms, hugging her and smothering her with kisses.  
"Oh, my beautiful girl, really? Truthfully? Are you sure? " his face was flushed with excitement, as he looked at his wife and then at his two best friends...  
"Well, isn't this the best day ever!" He exclaimed.

Jamie and Malcolm were 'wetting the baby's head'.  
Malcolm, who didn't drink much as a rule, was well and truly plastered. His 'bosom buddy', and new father of a beautiful baby girl, were at the Tucker house. Ellie was in hospital, due home the next day. In the meantime it was alpha male, 'man make fire!' bonding time!  
"I tell yer, Malc...she was fucking magnificent..." Jamie's elbow slipped off the counter, and he almost fell from the bar stool.  
"I keep thinking 'bout that night at mine, when you delivered Robbie...'member? Fucking amazing...best thing ever...never forget it long as I live! 'N I said to you...if ever I have a kid..."  
Malcolm lifted his dazed and aching head, and tried to focus, as Jamie's face seemed to shimmer and undulate before his gaze...  
"Christ, mate...I was shit scared though...Sam, was fucking brilliant. Well, she always is...fuck, Jamie, I love you all so much...yeah?"  
Big man hugs all round...  
Sam arrived home from visiting Ellie in the hospital, to find her two favourite men in the world, fast asleep, one sprawled on the sofa, one face down on the hearth rug, snoring blissfully. At peace with the world!

Less than one month later, it was Sam's turn. Since Robbie's labour had been so quick, she was taking no chances. A back ache was the signal to phone the midwife, and it was a very short time until Malcolm Tucker watched his own baby daughter emerge into the world. Hours later, as Sam slept peacefully, exhausted from her efforts, Malcolm sat, in his study, the tiny bundle cradled in his arms.  
"Look at you, little one! Do you know just how precious you are? How loved you are, by your mother, your brothers and me? I swear on my life, I will be a good Dad to you and you'll want for nothing!"  
He kissed the tiny forehead and placed the newborn in her cot.  
Sam stirred as he slid into bed next to her.  
"She's sleeping," he whispered, "you okay, darling?"  
She smiled drowsily, as he enfolded her in his arms, she nestled against him with a sigh of contentment.  
"Thank you, Malc,"  
"What for?"  
"For being you! I love you, my husband, my friend, my life!"  
Malcolm could not speak in reply, all he could do was bury his head into her shoulder and hold her close, emotion barely held in check.

"I'm hoping this Baptism won't be as eventful as Wee Jamie's!" Jamie remarked to his friend, as they stood by the font, shoulder to shoulder, cradling their respective newborn daughters.  
Malcolm chuckled.  
"No, you're fine...I'm planning on staying on my feet all day today!"  
Sam held Robbie, who was also to be Christened, on her hip. Little Jamie standing beside her, close to her leg.  
Robert Alistair and Grace Amelia Tucker, were duly wetted, and a candle passed.  
Ellie standing as Godmother to Grace and Jamie as Godfather to Robbie.  
Then it was the turn of the little McDonald. Malcolm placed Grace in his wife's arms, Robbie now standing with his older brother, sucking his thumb, before moving to his best friends side.  
Jessie Eleanor McDonald, to be known in the family as Jess, wailed as the cold water hit her forehead. It was not lost on Malcolm that he was Godfather to a little girl with the same name as his first wife, but Jamie's beloved mother was named Jessie, and both parents loved the name.  
So it had to be.  
Ceremony over, the assembled company removed to the Tucker house.  
Malcolm stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter...he watched his wife move amongst the guests, showing off their beautiful daughter, he watched his boys careering around outside, in the garden, two tousled heads together...he watched his best friends and their new addition and his other friends and family, all gathered together, laughing and chatting, and he sighed with contentment.

He truly was a happy man.

That's it for the Tuckers for the time being. I'll definitely return to them. But no more babies! I originally set out, with After the Party, to write a love story, and it's turned into a bit of a monster!


End file.
